


I could watch the dreams flicker in your eyes

by Veto_power_over_clocks



Series: Life after highschool [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, College, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Future Fic, Masturbation, Rated for one chapter, Slow Burn, hq rare pair weekend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-11 14:44:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4439861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veto_power_over_clocks/pseuds/Veto_power_over_clocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The making of Ennoshita Chikara's first love story, with the help of one Michimiya Yui.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Paltita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paltita/gifts).



> I fell into Ennoshita/Michimiya hell. Hard. And there's nothing. Really. I wanted fanart, couldn't find anything, then moped for 30 seconds before deciding I should write something, then rarepair weekend gave me the perfect opportunity. Then the thing got out of control and I ended up filling all the prompts in one fic.

What Chikara knows about stories is that you start with an idea and that, as you try to find the right way to present it, it ends up changing, until it becomes something that has taken a life of its own. What he also knows is that, if you cling to your original idea too much, sometimes you end up with a pretentious, confusing mess that can’t be understood even after two hours spent thinking about it. Another thing Chikara knows, but that has nothing to do with stories, is that maybe he’s a bit bitter this afternoon.

It’s just that Chikara’s near the end of his first month in film school, and there’s a festival at the end of the year that he desperately wants to submit something to. According to the guidelines, it must be a short film, and he’s been excited about it even since he found out about it, but today they showed the class the entry that won last year, and it was awful. Chikara hasn’t hated a movie so much in a long time, what with its cheesy dialogue, ambiguous ending, dissonant soundtrack and, worst of all, the stylistically jittery camera. Sure, the plot was original, but other than that, he didn’t see the appeal, and apparently what had happened was that the jury really valued the technical aspects, and the film was flawless in that. Perfect costumes and make-up, great lightning and sets, sound editing and general editing that looked professional… everything Chikara can’t afford. So yes, he’s bitter, you can’t blame him for that, but you can blame him for getting a copy of the film and spending the last two hours in the campus’ library watching it again and again, taking notes of the technical aspects and unsuccessfully trying to make himself feel better by dissecting the plot and the acting. The only reason he didn’t stay longer was because his laptop ran out of battery.

He leaves the university and stops on the first fast food restaurant he finds on the way home. He’s been there far more often that he’d like in the last month, his eating habits gone to hell in favor of getting more time to sleep or study, and if he eats another cheap burger he suspects he’ll end up poisoned or overdosed on whatever is used to flavor it, but the food’s actually tasty and kind to his budget, so… he has no reasons to complain, considering that the restaurant is air conditioned and the temperature is always nice, and that the employees keep the place clean despite the constant flux of people. Really, he’s never had anything to say against the place before today, which only goes to prove that he’s bitter.

The cashier seems familiar, and Chikara stares from the door for a moment, trying to place her. She has brown hair tied back – he guesses she keeps it in a ponytail, but he can’t see from where he is – and brown eyes, and she smiles to every client like she genuinely believes the meal will be enjoyable.

He’s near the front of the queue when he remembers her, and then he’s not sure what he’s supposed to do. Greet her? Wait to see if she recognizes him? Fake ignorance and not talk to her unless she does?

The last one’s definitely the safest option. Yeah, he’s going with that one.

When he finally reaches the register, he reads her nametag, just to make sure he’s not mistaking her for someone else, but when he raises his eyes he discovers that apparently he wasn’t very subtle looking down, because she’s giving him a wary look and her smile, while still in place, looks uncomfortable. He’s about to apologize when her eyes widen.

“Ennoshita? From Karasuno?” She smiles, amazed and glad.

“Yes, hi.” He pauses, returning the smile, although his is infinitely less bright. “Michimiya Yui, right?”

“Yes! Hi!” Her grin widens and she leans towards him slightly. “What are you doing here? Are you in college?”

“I’m in film school,” he says. “What about you?”

“Just working here, saving for college next year. Wow, it’s great to see you!” She straightens again. “So, what do you want?”

“The cheapest burger you have.” He scratches the bridge of his nose as he speaks, a bit embarrassed.

“Fries? Something to drink?”

“I’m kinda broke right now. End of the month and everything...” he says, and shrugs.

She gives him a sympathetic look.

“You won’t get anything to drink? These things can be pretty dry,” she says, fingers hovering over the register.

“Would I get kicked out if I had juice in my backpack?” Chikara says, leaning forward and whispering conspiratorially.

“Not if I don’t tell anyone,” she whispers, serious, leaning forwards as well (close enough that he sees the darker specks of her irises), and she looks to the sides as if checking for anyone that might have heard her. She smirks and straightens her back, chipper as she says, “Okay then, one ‘Cheapest Burger’,” she says making quotation marks in the air with the hand that isn’t tapping on her screen. He gives her a small, thankful smile when she looks up at him.

Chikara pays and waits by the side, watching her and the rest of the clients. He starts constructing the scene in his head, the happy-go-lucky college student who gives a free meal to a mysterious man who happens to be a deadly super-spy. Or maybe she is the super spy and accidentally drags an innocent man into an international conspiracy. Or maybe it can be a heartwarming story about loving life. He could include a dog, and an old man that gives useful, if at first somewhat puzzling, advice. Chikara snorts at the idea, earning looks from the people around him. Michimiya looks at him with a raised eyebrow, and puts his food on a tray.

The burger is good, by fast food standards, and he eats it slowly, thinking what kind of story Michimiya could belong to. He takes out his phone and starts writing down ideas, but everything sounds too ‘Coming of Age Drama with Independent Soundtrack’ to his taste, and he deletes everything.

Then he regrets it and writes everything again. It takes him too long, since he’s holding the food with one hand, and chewing, and trying to look around him to see if there’s anything interesting happening, so in the end he eats slowly, writes slowly, and he’s seen at least five people give him angry looks for holding up a table.

An employee stands next to his table, and he shoves what’s left of his burger into his mouth and does his best to chew and swallow quickly, reaching blindly for his juice box because he overestimated the size of his mouth. The employee hands him the drink and when he tips his head back in an attempt to make the food go down more easily he finds that the employee is Michimiya, who’s looking at him with barely contained mirth, her lips pressed together tightly but curving upwards.

Chikara finally swallows. He coughs, keeps drinking juice to give himself an extra moment to compose himself, and then finally dares to talk to Michimiya.

“Hi again,” he says. “I’ll leave now if you need the table.”

“I’m not here for that. I took a break and thought to come here to bother you for a bit.” She gestures towards the register. “If you don’t mind, of course! Just a few minutes, and then you can go home and study or whatever it is that they make you do in film school.”

“I don’t mind, just, uh, give me a second.” He pulls the tray towards his side of the table, piles all the trash on it, puts his phone in his pocket and cleans the table with a napkin, making Michimiya chuckle. He looks up, embarrassed.

“If everyone was so considered, we’d have it a lot easier,” she says, shaking her head and sitting down. She puts a portion of fries in front of herself.

“Have you been working here long?”

“About six months, I think?”

“Really? Why didn't I see you before?”

“I had the morning shift, but sleeping in is nice, so I took this one instead,” she says, playfully sticking out her tongue. “Here,” she says, pushing the fries towards the center of the table, “I brought an offering. Since I’m coming here to talk to you out of nowhere…” she takes a fry and waves it in the air.

“It’s fine, Michimiya, really. I didn’t expect to you find you here.”

Her expression darkens for an instant, her mouth twisting into a deprecating expression before everything is fine again.

“Yeah, you probably thought I would be in college, right?” She bites the fry and gives an amused look.

“No, it’s just that everyone from Karasuno was going to other places and I assumed that I wouldn’t see anyone… I don’t know, I just didn’t think of the older students that were already here.”

She cringes. “Older students? You make me sound ancient, it’s just one year! Now I’m feeling old.” She pouts, and then grabs another fry. “But maybe I _am_ a bit old, though,” she continues. “I can’t remember your name.” She bows her head slightly in apology.

“It’s ‘Chikara’.” He looks at Michimiya’s hair. He remembers her having short, slightly messy hair. Now, it’s kept in a low ponytail and probably reaches past her shoulders, making her look older, or maybe more tired.

“Chikara?” He nods. “Ennoshita Chikara. Ennoshita Chikara. Ennoshita Chikara,” she repeats, her eyes closed. “Okay, I won’t forget it again. Promise!”

They eat the rest of the fries while talking about Chikara’s courses. Michimiya asks a lot of questions, about his teachers, about the campus, about how college life is in the artistic fields, about his classmates. She sounds a bit like she misses it, but he doesn’t ask, even though he’s really curious.

Last thing he heard about Michimiya was when she graduated, over a year ago. She was going to study something related to teaching, and then she’d dropped out of his radar.

Chikara’s almost sure that Michimiya and Daichi had been dating, but he doesn’t ask about that either, carefully avoids mentioning anything related to Karasuno, just in case.

“Thanks for the time,” Michimiya says, leaving the empty fries container on the tray and standing up. “I hadn’t seen anyone from school in some months, I was starting to worry that nobody existed outside of text messages and Facebook.” She reaches for the tray, but Chikara grabs it first and doesn’t let her take it.

“I’ll take it to the trash can, don’t worry.”

“Why can’t we have more people like you?” she says, giving him a thankful look. “It was great to see you, Ennoshita. Take care, okay?” And she returns behind the counter.

Chikara’s halfway home when he remembers Michimiya’s words, about people not existing outside of texts.

The next day, Ennoshita finds the best looking donut in the campus’ coffee shop and the best looking sandwich and takes them to Michimiya’s working place.

She waves at him when he enters.

“You serve coffee, right?” he asks when he’s at the front of the queue.

“Yes, we do. Between us,” she says, lowering her voice, “it’s a bit watered down, but I can get you good coffee if you’re willing to wait for my break.”

“Okay. Can you have a coffee with me?”

Michimiya half opens her mouth and looks at him in disbelief, and Chikara wants to kick himself.

“Not as a date, just to talk. Like yesterday. I haven’t seen anyone from Karasuno since graduation either.”

“But we weren’t classmates. Or friends,” she says warily.

“I’m not asking you out, I promise,” Chikara says earnestly.

Michimiya relaxes. “Okay. Grab a table and give me fifteen minutes.”

While he waits, Chikara takes out his phone again to write down notes, this time about the awkward situation from a moment ago. If he ever feels like making a romantic comedy, he could probably use it, but with a more interesting male lead. There’s something about ‘young film school student with big dreams’ that screams ‘douche’ to him, especially when paired with ‘young woman who apparently dropped out of college’. He’ll keep the girl and change the guy into someone worth watching.

Two paper-cups enter Chikara’s field of vision.

“You were doing the same thing yesterday,” Michimiya says, sitting down in front of him. “Phone addiction or someone important?”

“Sorry, what?” Chikara says, reaching for one of the cups. Michimiya takes the cup away from him and pushes the other one into his hand.

“This one’s mine, with the right amount of sugar and everything,” she says taking out sugar packets from a pocket and leaving them next to Chikara’s cup. “Sugar’s fine, or are you the kind that needs sweetener?”

“Sugar’s fine, thanks.”

Michimiya beams.

“I was talking about your phone. Yesterday you were on it too. So… are you addicted or are you texting someone?”

“Phone addiction doesn’t exist,” Chikara says, frowning slightly.

“Yes, it does. I read it in a magazine. Is that what this is?”

“No,” Chikara says, turning off the phone’s screen and putting it away. “I’m taking notes.”

“Notes?”

“About things that happen. For movies.”

“Really?” she looks unconvinced. “Have you written anything about me? Am I going to see myself in the big screen in some years? Can I get royalties from shameless use of my personality?”

“I don’t write about specific people, I just take notes of details,” he says as he puts sugar in his coffee, carefully watching it sink into the liquid to avoid looking up at Michimiya. “I might take a general idea of someone’s personality and then go from there.”

“How?” She sips her coffee.

“Like… I know you from school. I remember you laughing and now you smile at the clients. So, if I wrote about you, at most it would be a girl that smiles, but I’d give her a new life and backstory, and things that make her herself.”

“So I might see my smile on the big screen? That’s flattering.” She grins.

Chikara sips his coffee and hopes she’ll change the topic soon. He’s not a big fan of talking about how he makes stories, especially after a full month of hearing people talk about their rituals, and oh how very tortured and complex they are.

“What else do you take notes of?” She puts an elbow on the table, lets her head rest on her palm as she looks curiously at Chikara.

He considers shrugging and changing the subject, but she seems genuinely interested and that would probably be rude, so he answers.

“How the light is in some places. Or how exactly I felt in a moment. Or songs that I think would make for good background music.”

“It’s a bit like a diary, right?”

“A bit, yes.”

“Shouldn’t you keep that in a notebook? Your phone could get stolen.” She looks worried.

“I back up everything when I get home.”

“I thought creators always went around with notebooks, writing down stuff and looking intellectual.”

“If I did that, people would hate me,” he says, shrugging.

“Maybe.” She purses her lips and keeps drinking her coffee.

Chikara takes out the donut and the sandwich and leaves them of the table.

“Which one do you want?”

“You brought me food?”

“You gave me a very good idea yesterday, so I wanted to thank you.”

“Oh, so that’s why you wanted to have coffee with me?” Chikara nods. “Oh, good. I really thought this might be a date, and, well… You’re nice but…” she straightens, points at herself and then gestures towards the table. Chikara has no idea what she’s trying to say. “Anyway, what idea did I give you?”

“You said something about people not existing outside of text messages. I think I could use that in a movie.”

“Would it be sci-fi?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

“It could be a dystopia. Or maybe something like ‘The Matrix’, where everyone exists in a machine. Oh, or maybe a love story. Like, she receives letters that aren’t meant for her and she falls in love, but it turns out that the person who wrote them is a jerk trying to get his ex back.”

“How is that a love story?” he frowns slightly.

“She found something beautiful, even if it’s a lie. Or maybe the person writing is a woman, not the handsome guy she imagined.”

“…do they get a happy ending?” Chikara asks after thinking about it for a while.

“Why not? After the initial awkwardness.”

“I’m not sure if my college would like that.”

“Your college?”

“There’s a film festival at the end of the year… I’m trying to create something for it.” He looks at the table as he speaks.

“Really? Great! I remember the movies you made last year, they were good.”

“You saw them?”

“Sawamura showed them to me,” she says, smiling fondly.

“I see…” he nods slowly, considering whether or not to ask. “So… Sawamura…”

Michimiya looks awkward for a moment, bites her lower lip and looks away from Chikara. “We broke up a couple of months ago.”

“Oh. Sorry for asking, I thought…”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” she says, waving a hand. “We probably should have put it up on Facebook or something.”

“Okay, but…”

“Really, Ennoshita, it’s fine.” She smiles at him and takes the donut. “Wanna share? Half for you, half for me.”

“Sure.”

This time, they talk about movies. In her own words, Michimiya has too much free time, so she has spent it watching every single thing that premiers, and catching up on things she always wanted to see. She gives him a list of things to watch, asks him for recommendations, and all in all it’s a nice conversation, but they don’t exchange numbers or try to stay in touch, so Chikara doesn’t see Michimiya again until a night two weeks later, when writer’s block hits him and every single thing he has written looks like the work of an overworked office man without his caffeine fix after doing an all-nighter. He grabs his laptop and rides the train to the fast food restaurant where Michimiya works, thinking that maybe if he sees her again the same ray of inspiration that had come from her words that day will hit him again, or that the smell of the place will bring it back. Really, he’s just trying to stimulate his memory to get that moment again.

Michimiya’s not at the register, and tonight’s cashier isn’t very happy to see him. He can’t blame him, since the sign at the door says there are ten minutes left before closing time.

He gets a soda and fries and finds a table, then sits down to write, the dialogues sounding stilted. He gives up, closes the laptop and lets his forehead rest on it, giving himself a moment to wallow in self-pity and maybe some hate as well, while he’s at it.

Someone stands at his side, and Chikara hopes it’s Michimiya.

“Ennoshita?” the person says, and it’s Michimiya’s voice, thank goodness. He doesn’t want to get kicked out by a stranger.

“Hi,” he says, turning his head to see her, but still resting on the laptop. The restaurant is almost empty.

“We’re closing, you have to leave.”

“Okay. Sorry for the inconvenience.” He starts putting away his things, feels her eyes on him.

“You look tense,” she says when he finally looks at her. “Wanna wait for me and talk about it?”

“I don’t want to bother you.”

“I don’t have anything else to do, if that’s what you’re worried about.” She flicks his arm and gives him a warm - if a bit sad - smile.

They walk to the station together. Michimiya walks too fast, and often she stops and waits for Chikara to catch up with her, and other times he takes longer steps to match her speed.

“So, why were you writing there? I thought you were supposed to write in coffee shops,” she says, tone teasing.

“I’m breaking away from stereotypes, Michimiya. They hurt creativity,” he says in a condescending tone that he doesn’t manage to keep until the end of the sentence and which has Michimiya laughing. “I had writer’s block and I thought I might get another idea there. Since you gave me the first one…” he admits.

“Ah, I see. You wanted the mysterious cashier to illuminate you and then disappear, only a memory in a young creator’s mind.” She does jazz hands when she says that, and Chikara chuckles. She looks at him in surprise. “You laughed! I made you laugh!”

“It’s not that hard,” he says defensively.

“Sorry, I thought it would be. You look tired.” She raises her hands in a placating gesture.

Chikara runs a hand through his hair, lets it rest on the back of his neck.

“I’m just stuck. I’ll get over it,” he says, looking up to the night sky. Except there is no night sky, since light pollution hides everything that’s worth looking at.

“Do you need help? I can look at you work, if you want.”

“Really?” He looks at Michimiya, who has her arms crossed behind her back and is bent slightly forward, peering up at him.

“Can you show your work to other people, or was it a bad idea?” She frowns. “I’m not a critic, but maybe I can tell you what I think? If it helps?”

“Having an extra set of eyes always helps.” He lets his arms hang by his sides, feeling slightly more relaxed than when he left home.

“Yes?” A hopeful smile starts forming on her face.

“Yes, thank you. I’ll send it to you when I get home.”

“I’ll be waiting for it!”

He almost forgets to send her the script, remembers just as he’s getting into bed, and he reaches blindly for the place where he thinks he left his laptop.

The light from the screen hurts his eyes in the near total darkness of his dorm room, and he squints as he writes to Michimiya. He spends two minutes wondering if he should add anything, a greeting or another thank you, and he settles for “here’s the script, thanks again”.

Chikara forces himself not to think about Michimiya reading his script, because whenever he imagines her opening the file he gets anxious. It’s not the first time someone has looked over what he’s written, but usually it’s people he knows well, people he trusts to be honest and tell him what works or doesn’t without destroying his confidence in the process. Michimiya barely knows him.

He’s half hoping she won’t read it or that she’ll just skim through it and give him feedback of the ‘I liked it a lot, good job’ kind, but when he opens his mail the next afternoon, he has a long message from her that sums up as ‘can we meet to talk about your script?’, followed by her number.

Chikara texts her with shaking hands, even though he has no idea what she wants to say, doesn’t even know if it’s negative feedback, nervous even when he’s perfectly aware that they can’t meet today and he’s safe from whatever she thinks of his script until the weekend.

They meet on Saturday morning in a Starbucks, because Michimiya thinks it’s funny to discuss a movie script in a coffee shop. Chikara thinks so too, and is a bit sorry it wasn’t his idea to meet there.

On the days before the meeting, Chikara reviews what he has of the script and rewrites it, barely leaving anything of the original, and he shows up on Saturday with a printed copy.

“I rewrote everything, Michimiya,” Chikara says as he sits down, water bottle in hand. He’s not sure he can deal with both Michimiya’s criticism and one of Starbucks’ mysterious cold drinks at the same time.

“Really?” She pouts. “Okay, then. But keep this anyway,” she says, taking out a printed copy of the first script out of the small backpack she’s carrying.

Chikara flips the pages and finds that she highlighted some parts, added comments in different colors, and even put sticky notes in some pages.

“Did you do all this in one morning?” he asks as he reads a pink line that says ‘Needs context’.

“One morning?” she asks, narrowing her eyes in confusion.

“Sorry, I thought you did this the day after I sent it to you.”

“Oh, that.” She gives a bashful smile. “I actually did this right after you sent it to me?”

Chikara stares, lets it sink in.

“Right after? You mean, that night?”

Michimiya nods, shrugs with one shoulder and looks at some point behind Chikara.

“I was really excited that you’d let me read your script, so I got to work immediately… But I only wrote the notes that night! I did everything else the next days.”

Chikara looks back at the annotated script.

“Is there a code to this?”

“Yes!” she says, pulling the script to her side of the table. “Things highlighted are things I really liked. Yellow means I think they’re perfect, and green means I think they’re good, but they don’t work that well where you put them. Maybe you should make them happen later, or earlier, or save them for another script?” She looks up anxiously. Chikara nods and motions for her to continue. “Okay, so what’s handwritten are observations. Pink for things that aren’t that clear, red for things I think you need to reword. And the sticky notes are just things I wanted to ask you about.”

She pushes the script back to him and looks expectantly at him. Chikara looks from her face to the script, skims through it again, and looks up at her in amazement.

It probably doesn’t show, because she squirms a bit.

“What?” she says.

“This is… a great job,” he says, somehow sounding calm despite being torn between wanting to cry over how his work has been torn apart, and wanting to dance around the place because what she did was amazing.

“Thanks?” Michimiya frowns in puzzlement. “I mean… I’ve seen a lot of movies lately so…”

“No, it’s a very good job. Do you think you can keep helping me?” He tries his hardest to make his tone express how much it would mean to him. He thinks he might have succeeded.

“Sure!” She perks up. “I’d love to!”

“Really? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Or if you have better things to do.”

“Ennoshita, come on,” she says, playfully punching his shoulder. “I’m working at a fast food restaurant and I have no idea what to study. This is the most fun I’ve had in six months.” She reaches for her drink, something yellow-ish with a lot of cream on top. “But I want my name in the ‘thank you’ section of the credits.” She takes a sip of her drink and grins, the green straw caught between her upper and lower teeth.

“Agreed.” Chikara extends his hand towards Michimiya. “It’s a deal?”

“Of course!” Michimiya shakes his hand enthusiastically, making Chikara fear for a moment that she’ll break it. She lets go to look at the script she edited. “This will sound silly, but I’m feeling important. I’m going to help with a college film!”

“It’s fine, I’m excited too. It’s my first college film.”

“So, what changes did you make? Since you rewrote it?”

“I’m thinking of what to do. There’s no way I can win at technical aspects, since everyone that used to help me now has things to do. I think I can get Akaashi to help with the photography again, and Yahaba can work from anywhere, but Aone isn’t in Miyagi anymore, and everyone I used as actors is in Miyagi, I can’t make the trip that often to film… So my resources are seriously limited.”

“Is that why your story only has one big speaking role?”

“I changed that, I have two now.”

“Did you change the plot?”

“Yes. Since I can’t win in technical aspects, I’m aiming for the audience award.” He grins. “I’m making a love story.”

She gapes.

“What?” he says, frowning.

“Sorry, I didn’t think you’d be the kind that made love stories. No offense, just… you made an action film and a horror one, and that Harry Potter project… You aren’t just doing this to get an award, right?” She looks concerned.

“Don’t worry, I’m not. I’m doing it as a challenge. I’ve never done a love story before, so I thought this was as good a time to try as any.”

“Okay…” she says, unconvinced. “And what is it about?”

“A surveillance camera that loves the person in charge of maintaining the building’s electric system, so it hacks the company’s computer to send them kind messages through the dating site they joined.”

“That can’t end happily,” Michimiya says, twisting her lips.

“Depends of what you want. The camera isn’t in love, but the person’s still the most important part of its life, and it eventually realizes that the person's affections are romantic and that the messages can only hurt them from now on, so it cuts off all communication.”

“That’s sad. And what happens to the person?”

“They remember that someone thought they were precious and face life with optimism.”

Michimiya plays with the ice in her drink, moving it from side to side with the straw.

“I like it,” she finally says, looking sadder than he ever remembers seeing her. “I want the script.” She turns to him, serious.

“I’ve got it here.” Chikara takes it out and hands it to her.

Michimiya flips the pages and announces, “I’ll have it ready on Monday.”

"You don't need to hurry..."

"I want to work on this, Ennoshita. Don't complain about my work ethic." Her tone's teasing, and she points at him with her straw as she speaks. 

“I can pick it up after classes.”

“Good.” She beams. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Day 1 prompts:** new / ~~[begin again](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zr5mtKSbd7M) / "Hearts rebuilt from hope resurrect dreams killed by hate.“ ~ Aberjhani~~


	2. Chapter 2

Michimiya’s staring at him, lips made into a fine line, eyebrows just slightly raised, and an assessing look in her eyes. In the last month, Chikara has learned to be terrified of that face, because it means ‘I think this part sucks and I’m looking for a polite way to tell you without hurting your feelings’.

Chikara fiddles with his soda’s straw, shuts his eyes.

“Okay. Say it.”

“The final line…” her tone’s pained.

“I know. I hate it,” he groans.

“It’s… cheesy.”

“I know.”

“I ruins everything you’ve built until now.”

“I know.”

“It sounds forced.”

“I _know_ ,” Chikara says, letting his head fall forwards and hit the table with a soft thud. “I also know that it’s badly worded, that it’s too long, and that it makes the whole movie into something that should have an independent soundtrack and will be watched and praised by people in turtlenecks." He shifts, letting his chin rest on the table. "Maybe some middle aged moms too.”

“I wouldn’t go that far…” Chikara opens his eyes to look at her, and her shoulders drop. “Yes, you’re right,” she admits. “But that was mean.”

“You’re my critic, you have to be mean.” Chikara closes his eyes again.

“I have to be severe, not mean. You have yourself if you want someone to be mean to your work.” Michimiya’s voice is soft, and then there’s a hand on Chikara’s head, and Michimiya’s fingers are threading through his hair. “It’s one line, Ennoshita. It will come to you.” Michimiya lowers her hand to let it rest on Chikara’s back for a moment. “Okay, my break’s over.” Her chair scrapes the floor when she stands. “See you soon?”

Chikara straightens himself, looks up at Michimiya, who’s tying her hair back into her usual ponytail.

“I’ll text you when I finish this.”

She gives him a thumbs up and returns behind the counter.

After Michimiya became the proof-reader, they fell into a pattern: Chikara writes, emails her the script, and one or two days later she texts him to let him know she’s done, so he stops by her work after classes and they spend her break going over what she wrote down. Since Chikara wants to start working on the film as soon as possible, he gave himself a deadline of a month and a half to finish the script, which means that he doesn’t sleep enough, half of what he writes sounds horrible in the morning, and he thinks too much about what the older students will make and how they’ll get all the awards and why is he even bothering with this?

Thank goodness he has Michimiya to look over the script and push him to continue.

He Skypes Akaashi when he gets to the dorm, because no problem seems to big when Akaashi looks at you with a slightly raised eyebrow and what seems to be deep resignation in his eyes, like he thinks you are drowning in a glass of water. Then you talk to him, he points something out and you realize that indeed you were, and you feel like the greatest idiot that ever lived.

Thank goodness for Akaashi Keiji, even if he’s as bad for Chikara’s creative ego as Michimiya can be.

“The last line sucks,” Akaashi says as way of greeting. His face is blurry on the computer screen.

“Michimiya told me that already,” Chikara says. “I’m calling you to ask if you have any ideas.”

“It’s your movie.” Akaashi leans backs, raises an eyebrow. “How desperate are you?”

“Why do you say?”

“The only time you asked me for help was one time when you were at the edge of deleting every file and starting from scratch.”

“Ah, yes, that time.” Chikara cringes. That had been a bad time. Looking back, he probably should have done that, since no one took the film seriously. He likes it anyway, but he isn’t really proud that he couldn’t make anyone focus on making the film properly. “I’m not desperate, I’m just stalling.”

“Stalling?”

“I think maybe there shouldn’t be a last line. Just… silence, and let people draw their own conclusions.”

Akaashi grabs a piece of paper that Chikara guesses must be a part of the script.

“You’ll have to rewrite the ending then.”

“That’s why I’m stalling.”

“Get back to work and tell me when you’re done.” Akaashi crosses his arms. “When’s your deadline?”

“In two weeks.”

“Then take it easy.”

“The sooner it’s done, the better… I don’t want to keep bothering Michimiya.”

“Why, did she complain?” Akaashi looks slightly intrigued.

“No, but… look at the work she does,” Chikara says, pointing in the direction of where he left his backpack with the latest edited script, as if Akaashi could know what he’s trying to show him. “There’s no way she likes it.”

“But she hasn’t said anything,” Akaashi points out.

“No.”

“She offered to help you, right? Let her help, and if you really think she’s unhappy, tell her you’re fine on your own.”

Chikara looks down, presses his lips.

“Do you have actors yet?” Akaashi says, changing the subject.

“No.” Chikara cringes. “Everyone’s at Miyagi, and as for the ones who are here, I don’t feel like I can just… show up and ask them to be in my movie.”

“You did last year.”

“That was last year. I had more time, I could adjust to their schedules.”

“I’m sure Bokuto and Kuroo would be happy to act in your movie,” Akaashi says, smirking.

“Kuroo did take it seriously, didn’t he?” Chikara says, his face a neutral expression to hide his dilemma about whether or not he wants to laugh or cringe at the prospect of working with him and Bokuto again.

“Pity he chewed the scenery.” Akaashi narrows his eyes slightly, probably remembering the horrors. “Anyway, gotta go. I have an assignment.”

“Okay, bye. Thanks for listening.”

Chikara tries to finish everything he has to do for college quickly, eager to go back to his script, but he ends up falling asleep on top of his notes and waking up hours later with his face on a pool of drool and his neck hurting. He finishes what he has to do and goes to bed, reasoning with himself that it’ll be better in the long run.

In the morning, there’s a text from Michimiya asking him if something happened to him.

‘ **im ok why?** ’ he texts back.

The reply arrives half a minute later.

‘ _i thought u were going 2 send me somthing yesterday_ ’

‘ **fell asleep** ’

‘ _good! ur sleeping! u don’t sleep enough_ ’

‘ **i do** ’

‘ _u don’t u always look sleepy_ ’

‘ **thats my face** ’

‘ _i mean sleepy sleepy not usual sleepy_ ’

‘ **ill send somthing later** ’

‘ _ok bye have a good day!_ ’

‘ **thx u 2** ’

It’s too early for Michimiya to be awake, and Chikara worries that he woke her up with his message. Just for that, he gets her cake and goes to see her in the afternoon, even though he has nothing to show.

“A cup of coffee?” she guesses when he raises the bag with the bakery’s logo printed on it.

“Make it two. The cake’s actually yours.”

“You’re spoiling me,” she says, smiling to herself as she takes the order.

He gets a table, takes out the latest version of the script and a pen and starts going over the last scene. He mentally apologizes to Michimiya as he removes the sticky notes and starts striking over some dialogues, writing down some notes, and then rewriting the whole scene again.

Like that time over a month ago, two cups are left in front of him. Michimiya’s looking at Chikara with, what, fondness? She’s fond of him? That’d be nice. Chikara’s fond of her too. But more than that, she looks happy.

“Hey,” he says, moving to put the script in his backpack.

“No, no, keep writing!” she says, putting her hand on his arm to stop him. “You look inspired; I don’t want to kill that.” She sits down and unties her hair, reaches for the bakery’s bag. “What did you bring? What did I do?”

“It’s cake. As an apology,” Chikara says, looking as she takes out the two plastic containers and examines them with critical eye. “One’s chocolate, the other one’s strawberry, I’ll eat the one you don’t want.”

Michimiya bites her lower lip, looks up at him, and there’s no warning before she punches his arm, hard enough to bruise.

“I don’t know why you’re apologizing,” she says as Chikara rubs his arm, “but I hope it’s because I’m gonna gain weight with these things. And how am I supposed to choose between them?”

“We can cut them in half and share?” Chikara suggests.

Michimiya bites her lower lip and again, looks at the cakes like she’s weighing her options. Just in case, Chikara moves away from her, but she nods once, slowly.

“Okay, then. Let’s share. You keep writing, I’ll take care of this.”

It’s hard to write when it’s far more interesting to watch how Michimiya cuts the cakes with the plastic forks the bakery provided. She’s slow, using one fork to keep the chocolate cake in place and the other one to cut and separate the halves, and when she’s done cutting it she looks at the forks for a long moment before reaching for a napkin.

“You can just lick it, you know?” Chikara suggests when she’s about to start cleaning one of the forks.

“You don’t mind?” Michimiya looks at him almost shyly.

“We’re a bit old to worry about indirect kisses, aren’t we?” Chikara shrugs, but Michimiya blushes anyway.

She hands him one of the forks and says, “You clean that one,” before looking away from him and putting her fork in her mouth, doing a thorough job of cleaning it.

Chikara definitely doesn’t watch her lick it clean, of course not. He just focuses very hard on cleaning the fork he’s been handed, wipes it with a napkin, gives it back to her so she can cut the strawberry cake and then crosses his legs and thinks about volleyball, that sport Michimiya also used to play and where she had to wear very short shorts and it’s a pity he never saw her play and, okay, let’s think about something else, because volleyball isn't working.

Let’s imagine how Akaashi would react if Chikara told him about this.

That thought is mortifying enough that Chikara can uncross his legs. He mentally apologizes to Michimiya, who thankfully has no idea about what just happened, and then kicks himself, because the problem had come out of nowhere. She didn’t deserve it. He’ll bring her food tomorrow again, but definitely not cake. Probably a sandwich. That’s safe.

“Ennoshita?” she says, concerned, and only then does Chikara realize that he's holding his head with one hand and that the other one’s curled into a fist, his knuckles white.

“Sorry, got caught thinking about all that’s left to do for this film.” He raises his head. She gives a sympathetic smile and pushes a plastic container with the half-portions of cake to him.

“It’ll be fine. Now keep writing!”

“It can wait. The ideas won’t leave.”

“And the inspiration?”

“It’s fine. Really.”

“You sure?”

He’s not sure how to explain the mood he’s in. It’s like all the ideas aren’t just in his head, they’re also in his bones, in his blood, flowing to his muscles and making it impossible for him to lose them; they remain at the forefront of his mind, nagging, evolving and developing. He can’t really write right now, because what would come out would be a mess of unconnected ideas.

“I’m sure, thanks,” he says instead.

“Do you have enough paper?” she asks, looking at the page he’s been writing on.

“…I don’t think so.”

“Thought so.” Michimiya smirks and takes a notepad from her uniform’s pocket. “I use it to write down things I have to point out in your scripts, but there should be some blank pages left,” she says as she hands it to Chikara. It’s a small notepad, about the size of Chikara’s hand from the wrist to the tip of the middle finger, and the cover has been decorated with images of crows clearly printed from the web, and movie posters probably cut from a catalogue. “I want it back later, okay? I’m going to sell it when you’re famous.” She sounds absolutely convinced, and Chikara can’t help to smile at that.

Yes, he’s definitely bringing her food again tomorrow. She really, really, really didn’t deserve that.

He flips through the notepad and finds her notes about the infamous last line. He cringes, and so does Michimiya.

“When you said you aren’t supposed to be mean to me…”

“I’m not mean to you. Those are my notes. You weren’t supposed to see them. Ever.”

“I’m not sure I want to see the rest.”

“Please don’t. Write. Don’t read the rest. Eat cake.” She stabs his cake with her fork and feeds Chikara a bite. “So why did you bring me this? What are you apologizing for?”

“Because I woke you up this morning. With the message.”

“This morning?” She frowns and then her face brightens with understanding. “Oh! Yeah, don’t worry. I really thought you were dead somewhere or something. You always send things on the same day. Don’t scare me like that again!” she points at him threateningly with the fork.

“Sorry, sorry, won’t happen again.”

“Good.”

“Can I stay writing here or will I get kicked out by a manager?”

“You can stay here.”

The finish the cake and Chikara keeps writing, barely leaving any blank spaces in the last pages of the script, until he admits to himself that it’s time to use Michimiya’s notepad. He doesn’t notice time passing until Michimiya’s by his side again, telling him it’s closing time.

“Already?” He blinks, trying to bring himself back to reality, and looks around. The doors are closed, the kitchen’s being cleaned, and Michimiya’s holding a mop. “…do you need help?”

“Go home, Ennoshita,” she says, voice too soft to be an order.

“I can stay and help. I don’t have classes tomorrow.”

“But you have a script to finish, and probably some film school things you neglected while writing,” she says, slightly accusing, and she gives a smug smile when Chikara looks away guiltily.

“Let me take pictures of this and I’ll leave,” Chikara says, raising the notepad.

“Keep it for now, you can give it back later.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, just go.”

Chikara doesn’t write anything else that day, but still ends up going to bed too late, trying to catch up on all those ‘film school things you neglected’ that Michimiya had reminded him of.

On Saturday morning, he gets up too early and finishes the script. He stares at the last sentence, at his messy handwriting – the result of writing too fast while being too tired, and he doesn’t bother transcribing anything, he takes pictures, loads them to his laptop and then leaves the room, looking up Michimiya’s number as he walks through the corridor.

“Ennoshita?” She sounds confused, sleepy, and Chikara remembers that, again, it’s too early.

“Hi, sorry. I got excited, I’ll call you later.”

He’s about to hang up, turning around to return to his room, when Michimiya’s almost yell of enthusiasm makes him freeze in place: “Did you finish the script?!”

“Yes?”

“So soon? Already? Are you sending it now?”

“About that…” Chikara shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “I was wondering if I could bring you your notepad so you could read it now. We can meet at the Starbucks if you want.”

“At the… no! Forget it, we gotta celebrate! Come over, I’ll tell my aunt and she’ll make something good for lunch.”

She’d mentioned once that she’d moved in with an aunt for university, and that the reason she was working, besides saving for next year, was that she felt guilty for staying and not helping in any way.

“Isn’t that too much problem?”

“You finished the script, Ennoshita.” Chikara hears movement at the other side of the line, what sounds like covers being thrown and quick steps.

“You don’t even know if it’s good.”

“You still finished, and you don’t sound miserable like when you finished it the other time. Bring it over, I’ll text you the address.”

She hangs up, not giving Chikara a moment to protest, and he finds himself staring at his phone, waiting for Michimiya’s address.

When he arrives to the apartment, the door’s opened by a woman in her late forties or early fifties, with black hair that reaches her shoulders and which seems to have been put through every single hair treatment known to man, judging by how shiny and soft it looks.

“Hi, I’m Yui’s aunt. Call me Aunt Sakiko or Sakiko and we’ll be fine,” she says, and her smile is identical to Michimiya’s, if a bit more teasing.

“Ennoshita Chikara, nice to meet you.”

“Yui’s getting out of the shower, should be done in a moment. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea? Water?”

“A glass of water would be fine, thank you.”

Aunt Sakiko – because Chikara doesn’t feel ready to go on a first name basis with a friend’s relative, especially when he’s not on a first name basis with said friend – gives him the water and leads him to the living room, makes him sit on the couch and leaves. Just then, Michimiya appears, hair dripping, and she approaches Chikara quickly, standing in front of him like she isn’t sure what to do.

“Can I hug you?” she finally says.

“Sure?”

She leans down and wraps her arms around him, tucking his head under her chin as she repeats how proud she is. It isn’t uncomfortable. At all. He actually kind of likes how easily he fits where he is.

“You haven’t read it yet,” he reminds her when she lets go.

“It’ll be good. Let me see it.”

She sits cross-legged on the couch next to him, water dripping from her hair down her back, wetting her t-shirt.

“Do you have a towel?” Chikara asks, watching the damp spot on Michimiya’s back grow and worrying about her health.

“For what?” She doesn’t look away from the script.

“Your hair. You could get sick.”

“I’ll be fine.” She waves a hand in a dismissive gesture.

“It’s no problem.”

Michimiya gives him a curious look and laughs. She stands up, returns with a small towel and sits on the couch again, this time with her back to him. Chikara turns, pats the top of her head with the towel and makes his way down her hair, mostly using the towel to catch excess water than to really dry anything.

“It was easier when I had it short,” Michimiya comments as Chikara drapes the towel over her shoulders as some sort of cape, and leaves her hair to drip on top of it.

“I remember it. Why did you let it grow?”

“I don’t know,” she says sadly. She closes the notepad, shifts so she can face Chikara with a grave expression.

“And?” he asks after she has spent at least three seconds just looking at him.

“It’s brilliant.” A smile breaks her seriousness. “It’s perfect. I love it.”

“You do?”

“Whose job is it to be severe? Mine. And I don’t see anything that needs to be changed here.”

Chikara doesn’t know how to deal with Michimiya’s praise. It’s a new thing, and it makes him want to laugh with how pleased he feels, how proud of himself, how thankful he is to her.

“I guess you won’t need me anymore, then.” Michimiya seems wistful as she says it, tracing the notepad’s spiral with a finger. “But you have to tell me when they show it, okay?”

“Oh, right.” He doesn’t like not having Michimiya helping anymore, even if he’d said he didn’t want to bother her anymore.

“Unless you have anything else I can help with?” she says, hopeful, looking at Chikara almost pleadingly.

“I’m not sure right now. But I’ll let you know how things go…”” He rakes his brain, trying to find any reason to keep Michimiya around for the rest of the film’s creation, or just for a moment longer. An idea comes to him then. “Do you have any suggestions for actors?”

“Suggestions?”

“I don’t have actors yet, and the people I know who would want to act… I’m not sure I want them to act in more than one or two scenes.”

Michimiya laughs, any of her previous unhappiness gone instantly.

“Shimizu Kiyoko’s living in Tokyo. You should talk to her.”

“Really? She was in a couple of my films, you think she’ll want to help again?”

“Just send her the script if you don’t think she’ll do it. She’s bound to accept after reading it.”

“She’d be good as the security camera,” Chikara muses.

“The security camera?” Michimiya asks, bemused. “But the other character has more screen-time.”

“Yes, I know.”

“And Shimizu’s beautiful.”

“Sure, but she looks a bit distant. She could pull off the ‘I’m supposed to be emotionless but I actually have too much in my heart’ role easily. For the other role, I’d rather have you,” he says without thinking.

Michimiya snorts and waves a hand, saying, “Yeah, right.”

“Why not?”

“You need someone that the whole audience could fall in love with. I could charm some people, but, come on, everyone?”

“Is this a self-esteem thing?” He honestly hadn’t expected that from Michimiya.

“No, it’s just logic.”

“You have a nice smile,” he points out.

“What?” Michimiya stares in disbelief, blinks a couple of times.

“We talked about it once, didn’t we? Your smile on the big screen.”

She opens her mouth, like she wants to argue, and then shrugs and smiles. “Thanks for the compliment, but you should find someone else.”

“Okay. But think about it,” he tells her.

Later, Chikara sends the finished script to Akaashi and Yahaba so they can start working, sends it to Shimizu to convince her to act, and gives himself the rest of the day to do nothing.

Shimizu calls that night instead of replying to his email.

“It’s a very interesting script, Ennoshita,” she says, thoughtful. “You want me to play the camera?”

“I thought you’d be good in that role.”

“I like it.” Chikara thinks he hears her smiling, in the softness of her voice, in how carefully she says the words. “I was wondering who would play the other character.”

“I haven’t thought of anyone yet,” he lies. Really, the more he thinks about it, the more he likes the idea of Michimiya’s smile on the big screen.

“Michimiya Yui is living in Tokyo,” Shimizu says, as if reading his thoughts. “Do you remember her? She was the captain of the girls’ volleyball team two years ago.”

“I remember her. She helped me with the script, actually.”

“Oh, so she’s read it.” Shimizu sounds surprised. “I think she would be would be good for the role. She’s a lively person, and I can imagine it would be easy for the audience to be charmed by her.”

Yes, he can definitely see it.

“I think so too,” he says.

“I hope you convince her. I’d like to work with her.”

“Can you talk to her? I suggested the role to her, but she didn’t take me seriously.”

There’s a pause, and Shimizu agrees.

The next day, Michimiya calls Ennoshita.

“I’m going to see you, where are you?” she asks, tense.

She arrives to his dorm looking nervous, wriggling her hands, and chewing her lower lip.

“Shimizu called me, she says she thinks I should be in your movie.”

“I already told you you’d be good for the role,” Chikara says, offering her the room’s only chair, which she rejects in favor of pacing the room.

“I can’t act. I’m a terrible actress. I can’t hide what I’m feeling or thinking or- or- or anything. I can’t hide. I can’t act. I told her so and she said that was good, that someone honest would be good, and she said she’d told you that she thought I’d be good and that you agreed and why would you?” She turns and points at Chikara, eyes wide, looking terrified.

“If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.”

“That’s not the problem!” she says, raising her hands. “The problem is that I can’t act, Ennoshita.”

“So you want to act.” Chikara’s confused.

“I can’t.”

“I asked if you wanted to act, not if you could,” Chikara says, just slightly annoyed, telling himself that it must be something big to have left Michimiya so nervous. “The script’s pretty ambiguous in the personality area, so you don’t even have to act. You just have to be yourself.”

“That’s the problem, Ennoshita. Why would anyone believe that Shimizu, or that camera played by Shimizu, would love me just like that?”

“You don’t think someone would?” he asks, disbelieving.

“No! I mean… I told you already. I can’t charm that many people. Maybe ten.”

“And I already told you that you have a nice smile.” Chikara shrugs, tries to smile reassuringly. “It’ll work, you’ll see.”

“I don’t know.” She finally sits down, plopping down on Chikara’s bed.

“Trust me. I’ll make the whole audience fall in love with you.” Chikara sits next to her on the bed and tentatively puts a hand on her shoulder, rubs small circles on it with his thumb.

She nods, the ghost of a smile on her face.

“I’m still a terrible actress.”

“I’ve probably dealt with worse,” Chikara says with a pained expression.

“Really?”

“I’ll tell you someday.”

“Not today?” She pouts.

“Nope. Since you’re here today, you’re going to show me how you’d play one of the scenes,” he says, using his ‘I’m the director and I give the orders here’ voice, which according to Yahaba only sounds like he’s trying too hard to be serious and respectable and which Tanaka says doesn’t sound any different from his ‘I’m the captain’ voice.

“Already?” She furrows her brow.

“We gotta start working quickly. The sooner you know your lines, the better.”

She seems to completely forget her previous worries when Chikara hands her the script. She flips through the pages, picks a scene and then paces the room as she reads to herself. Meanwhile, Chikara texts Bokuto and Kuroo, who might not be leading actor material, but are definitely great as extras. He can probably get Kozume to play a small part as well, and he’s sure that Haiba can be convinced to participate if Kuroo calls him.

“Okay, I’m ready,” Michimiya says. She’s determined, standing tall and serious, but her hands shake.

Objectively speaking, she isn’t a good actress. She plays herself as she thinks she should be for the role, and Chikara’s already dreading how many times he’ll have to shoot each scene. She repeats the same lines a dozen times, and when she gets it right, when she stops trying to be funnier, or cuter, or nicer than she usually is, she’s absolutely charming. It’s probably the dialogues, or the light, or the fact Chikara’s trying to see her in the way he needs the audience to see her, but he can’t help but think that she’s lovely.

“Stop trying,” he tells her when he finally knows what he wants.

“Sorry?” She tilts her head slightly.

“Be yourself. Don’t try to be someone else.”

“I told you I’m a terrible actress.” She groans, hiding her face behind her hands and sitting on Chikara’s only chair.

“I know, I heard you every time.” Chikara stands next to her and puts his hand on her head, like she did once for him, and threads his fingers through her hair, lets his hand rest on the back of her neck. “And I told you to be yourself, that I wrote this script so it would adapt to anyone.”

“You still think everyone will fall for me?”

Chikara remembers Michimiya on her last year of highschool, how her feelings for Daichi were as inconspicuous as the red on her cheeks when she sometimes talked to him and as the widening of her smile when she saw him. That’s the Michimiya he needs right now, the same one that’s giving him an accusing glare without taking her hands off her face, so he only sees her eyes through the spaces left by her fingers.

“You’re honest. People like that.”

“If you use it right. The ‘earnest, smiling young woman’ cliché is seriously overdone.”

“But you’re not a cliché. You’re you. I’m telling you that it will work.” Chikara steps back and crosses his arms. “Try again.”

She stands up and repeats her lines.

It works.

Chikara claps, making Michimiya turn to him, and when she sees him smiling at her, she grins.

Again, Chikara thinks she’s lovely, and this time he can’t blame the dialogue, or the light, or the way he’s trying to see her, because this is just Michimiya being Michimiya.

“It will work, then,” she says, putting her hands on her hips.

“Yes, it will.”

She takes his hands and shakes them, up and down with too much force, and then she lets go and hugs him, thanking him for letting her help with his movie. Her hair smells flowery, and when she leaves, Chikara wishes there was some way to put that on the film, wishes there was some way to tell everyone that Michimiya’s hair smells like spring, that her hands are small and warm but surprisingly strong, that her waist is slim and that the way she tucks her head under Chikara’s chin makes him feel more comfortable than he’s ever been. At least he thinks he can show everyone that her smile is summer itself, and if he manages that, everyone’s going to believe the love story.

Only then does Chikara remember that Kiyoko’s character isn’t in love with Michimiya’s, and he tries to understand why they had gotten so caught up in the idea of making the audience fall for her, why she’d started talking about it and why he’d agreed.

Thankfully, Bokuto answers his text and starts asking for details about the film, distracting Chikara from too many thoughts about how lovely Michimiya is, but it isn’t enough to take the image of her smile out of his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Day 2 prompts:** ~~hurt /[perfect](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=58L9zi5DtLo)~~ / “Uninvited, the thought of you stayed too late in my head, so I went to bed, dreaming you hard, hard, woke with your name, like tears, soft, salt, on my lips, the sound of its bright syllables. like a charm, like a spell.” ~ Ann Carol Duffy


	3. Chapter 3

Since Chikara’s room is tiny, Shimizu shares an apartment, and Akaashi refuses to have Kuroo and Bokuto in his house at the same time, the unofficial base of operations for the movie ends up being Aunt Sakiko’s apartment.

Just ten minutes into the first meeting, the woman loses her living room to the seventh art, because Akaashi brings large prints of Tolkien-related drawings to give an idea of what he’s thinking of for the film and spreads them on the couch, forcing everyone to sit on the floor, but first they need to move the center table to one side, then Michimiya brings a whiteboard and props it against the table, and they set up Michimiya’s laptop on a chair so they can Skype Yahaba and have him participate in the reunion as well, and then Bokuto insists on taking the couch’s cushions so Shimizu and Michimiya can sit on something soft, while Haiba sort of moves every piece of furniture he ends up close to in an attempt to be helpful and succeeds in redecorating the place.

When Aunt Sakiko enters the room half an hour later, announcing she’s going out and that Michimiya knows where everything is in case they need anything, she stops to stare while guilty, nervous looks are exchanged between every person in the room, until all the eyes settle on Chikara.

He’s about to apologize and promise they’ll put everything like it was, when Aunt Sakiko gestures to Michimiya and both of them leave the apartment to talk.

"Are you sure we can’t go to your place?” Chikara asks to Akaashi when the door closes.

“Tell me the exact date so I can empty the living room,” Akaashi replies, nodding, staring at the door.

Michimiya returns just some moments later, and she must notice the worry and anxiousness on everybody’s faces, because she raises her hands and shakes them as she explains that everything is fine, really, that her aunt just wanted to know if they’d be staying for dinner.

Only Bokuto and Shimizu accept the invitation, and then they set to work, discussing filming locations, trying to keep Haiba from asking too many questions about why Akaashi thought Tolkien was a good inspiration for a modern life not-romance, doing a dramatic reading of the script, and assigning chores, since everyone is also part of the production crew and will have to help with cameras, clothes, lightning, etc. Kozume settles on a corner with Michimiya’s and Shimizu’s make-up kits and starts calling anyone who’ll be in front of the cameras for tests, while Shimizu sits in front of the laptop to work with Yahaba, since most of her scenes only need her voice and Yahaba’s determined to evaluate it in order to find the perfect equilibrium between it and the music that will eventually be in the film, so for a good part of the afternoon they hear Shimizu fulfill all sorts of requests, from reading some pages of Natsume Souseki’s ‘Botchan’, to humming, to singing ‘Jingle Bells’ (if Chikara didn’t know better, he’d have thought that Yahaba was just pulling Shimizu’s leg, but when he hears Shimizu start singing the opening of an anime - to Yahaba’s evident confusion - it’s clear to Chikara who is the one having the most fun with the situation).

Michimiya reads her lines with Kuroo, Bokuto and Haiba, helps Kozume when he says he needs a break, comes and goes with snacks, pens and paper for Akaashi, a whiteboard marker so Chikara can write the schedule he’s trying to come up with - except he has a better idea of where Michimiya has been during each minute of this afternoon than of when they should start filming.

She laughs at something Bokuto says and the sound makes Chikara smile, and he knows he’s screwed when he realizes that Kuroo’s watching him. Kuroo raises an eyebrow and smirks, and then asks if he can stay for dinner too, because all he and Kenma eat at their apartment is take-out and eating something decent once in a while sounds good and healthy. Kozume doesn’t seem very excited by the idea of staying, but doesn’t argue, just goes back to putting eyeliner on Akaashi, who won’t be in front of the camera but was dragged by Haiba and Bokuto because they really wanted to know how he’d look.

They put everything in order before dinner, and in the end everyone stays, except Chikara doesn’t eat and instead settles on the couch with his laptop while everyone's around the center table, to finish up the schedule, look up the weather forecast for the next few weeks and the cost of train tickets to Miyagi. He absently says goodbye to everyone as they leave, and then Michimiya’s standing in front of him, hands behind her back, as if waiting for him to notice she’s there.

He looks up, blinks a couple of times because his eyes feel dry after so long spent staring at a screen. He thinks of her laughing at whatever that Bokuto had told her and says, “Is it closing time already?”

Her mouth does this funny thing like she can’t decide if she wants to laugh, or smile, or just let it hang open in surprise, but laughter wins. Now that Chikara thinks about it, it’s probably the first time he’s joked with her.

“Don’t worry, today’s manager won’t mind if you stay longer,” she says, with laughter still in her voice, sitting next to him and actively not looking at the screen.

“You can look, I don’t mind,” Chikara tells her, turning the laptop towards her.

“Oh, good, thanks!” she says, leaning to get a better view of the text. It’s a list of the places Chikara wants to film in, options in case they can’t visit them or if they’re too crowded, places he needs to check by himself before filming starts. He’s spent more time than he wants to tell roaming the city, familiarizing himself with its corners, and he also asked Akaashi, Shimizu and Michimiya for places they thought might be good for the movie.

“Are we going to Miyagi?” Michimiya asks, suddenly serious.

“I’m not sure yet, depends on whether or not we can afford the trip.”

“Hm.” She bites her lower lip. “I have a lot of people to visit if we go.”

She leans back on the couch, closes her eyes, and crosses her ankles.

“Michimiya?” Chikara closes the laptop and leaves it on the center table so he can give her his complete attention. He’s almost finished everything, and he can continue in the morning, while whatever is going through Michimiya's head shouldn't wait.

“I went back to working the morning shift. I thought it would be easier for filming and everything.” She opens her eyes and gives him a nervous look.

Chikara isn’t entirely sure what’s going on, but he goes along with the change of topic.

“Good, thanks. Sorry that you got dragged into all this.”

“We’re still on time to get somebody else for the role,” Michimiya says, her tone light.

“Sure, we could. But I was thinking that making you the lead actress would save me from having to put your name in the ‘Thank you’ section,” he jokes.

“I want my name there anyway.”

“Really? Then it’s going to be your smile on the big screen, and your name, and some of your time. What won’t that movie have from you?”

Michimiya twists her lips as she thinks.

“I wasn’t lying when I told that this movie’s the most fun I’ve had in months.” She looks at her knees as she speaks, her face becoming sadder with each word. “Going to work every day… sure it’s something to do, but it’s not something I _want_ to do, and it’s not like I feel I do anything there. I mean, at least here I know that there will be a movie at the end, and I was part of it!” A smile flashes through her face, so bright and sincere that Chikara wishes I had lasted longer. “I feel useful here.” She turns to look at Chikara, eyes too wet and bright. “I… I like that this movie has a lot of me, because I’ve been happy giving it as much as I can.”

They’re too close, Michimiya leaning to him as she spoke, and Chikara unconsciously approaching her as her voice became lower and her tone sadder.

Chikara thinks that, in a movie, this would be the moment the leads kiss, but if he ever kisses Michimiya, he’d rather it was on a day she was laughing. Besides, he isn’t entirely sure he wants to kiss her right now, but he knows he wants her to smile or, at least, feel safe around him, so he puts an arm around her shoulders and lets her lean against him.

“Sorry for that,” she mutters, turning to hide her face on his chest.

“It’s okay. I’m happy that this movie is going to have so much of you,” he says, very quietly, half-hoping she won't hear, but still needing to let her know.

“Even if my reasons are selfish?”

“Selfish?” He moves away from her so he can give her a disbelieving look. “I’m making a love story to get an award from the audience. You can’t be more selfish than that.”

“You said it was a challenge.”

“And it is. And I like the story, don't worry. But I started because I want to impress the audience. And this movie makes me happy, but it's better if it also makes you happy.”

Her lips curve upwards, not enough to be a smile, but enough to transform her expression from apologetic to peaceful.

“You know, Ennoshita? I’m sure you’re going to win. And then you’re going to make a lot of movies, and then you’ll be a director that works for film studios and I’m going to see all your movies when they premiere. I’ll be there on opening weekend for every single one of them, and then I’m going to see them again at the cinema as many times as possible, so they make a lot of money and get exported and everyone in the world can see them. And then I’ll buy the Blu-ray or whatever exists by then.” She becomes more enthusiastic as she speaks, and she looks absolutely convinced that Chikara’s going to become the director he wants to be.

“Even if they make you sad?” He asks.

“What?” She frowns.

“Will you watch my films that many times even if they make you sad?”

“…why wouldn’t I?”

“Back when I first told you about this movie, you didn’t seem that eager to keep working with me when you thought it couldn’t have a happy ending. I sort of assumed you don’t like sad things,” Chikara explains.

“Oh, that.” She smiles sheepishly. “I’ll see sad stories if you tell them. But I sort of assumed,” she smirks as she repeats his words, “that you’d rather film more action-y things. With explosions and one-liners.” She tries really hard not to smile, pressing her lips together, and Chikara tries not to smile either, although he’s fairly sure that he does a good job hiding it.

“That will definitely get exported, Americans like those things.” Chikara nods solemnly, like it’s an absolute true.

“You’ll have to send me pictures from the international premieres.” There’s a dreaming look on her face, like she’s imagining Chikara on Hollywood’s red carpet, or in Europe.

He allows himself a moment to dream as well, to see himself in a tux, drinking champagne and greeting foreign celebrities who are fighting each other to be in one of his movies. He imagines Michimiya there as well, looking at the actors and telling him which ones she thinks would be good for his latest script.

He’s so caught in the fantasy that he accidentally says, “You’ll be there with me, right?”

Michimiya stares, smiles nervously.

“Why would I be there?”

“Oh, sorry, I just… I don’t know, but I thought I could keep sending you my scripts and that you’d be part of my filming crew then.”

She gives him an indecipherable look, too serious, resigned, and with a trace of sadness that has Chikara desperate to apologize.

“I wasn’t assuming, but I thought you liked this and you don’t have to help me ever again if you don’t want to,” he says, keeping his voice steady, sounding reassuring and undemanding even if he’s panicking, because he'd like to work with her forever. Or just talk to her, but work is his only excuse to do so.

“Thank you.” She snorts, makes a reproaching face. “God, I don’t even know what I want to do now,” she says, looking intently at Chikara.

It makes him nervous, like there's something he should be aware of, but all he can think of is that she's close and she's looking at him.

“Whatever it is, I’ll support you.”

She smirks and shakes her head. “Probably not with everything. But I’m sure you’ll support any plans I have for the future.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’ll tell you when the movie’s finished.” She crosses her arms, keeps talking before Chikara can argue. “Anyway, you won’t need me when you’re famous. You’ll have professionals to proof-read your scripts.”

“Of course I’ll need you. You’re brilliant. You can only get better.” He's dead serious as he says it.

Michimiya blushes, bites her lower lip and looks away from Chikara. Then she stands up.

“You have to eat something,” she says, extending a hand to help him get up.

The next day, a warm but inexplicably cloudy Sunday, Chikara sends the finished schedule to everyone and visits the places he doesn’t know yet. One of them is a shrine, and Chikara buys two amulets for Michimiya, who he misses for the rest of the week. Now that the script is finished, he has no excuse to visit her at work, and not seeing her makes him moody and leads to him thinking up sad stories that she wouldn’t like. At least they talk every day, because the whole crew keeps discussing details and doing the whole pre-production through Skype, text messages and impromptu meetings between whoever’s free at certain moments.

On Friday, Chikara gives up and asks her if he can visit her, forgetting to come up with an excuse. He shows up at her aunt’s apartment with food (muffins, this time) around seven.

“Did I come at a bad time?” he asks when she opens the door, because she’s wearing track pants and an old t-shirt, and her hair’s up in a messy bun.

“Why do you ask?” She gives him a warning look.

Chikara knows a bit about picking your fights, so he puts up his hands in a placating gesture, shakes his head slowly and says, “No reason.”

“Good.” She nods approvingly and lets him in. “Thank goodness you’re here. My aunt isn’t home and I had no excuses to get distracted.”

“Distracted from what?” Chikara asks as he makes his way to the kitchen to leave the muffins.

“Studying, looking up information about universities and colleges, things like that.”

Chikara turns to her, surprised, and finds her grinning, hands on her hips and head held high.

“So you…” he starts, and she nods.

“I figured that I’m good at stories, so I should work at that. I’m thinking that I could be an editor, or a book reviewer. So… I’m studying for entrance exams. Or more like researching what I'm supposed to do... I think I have to study literature or something like that, but there’s a lot of information.”

Chikara looks at her, unsure of how to tell her and show her how proud he is, and how excited to see she’s found something she wants to do.

“Ennoshita?”

He opens his arms and smiles at her, and she understands, because she walks to him and settles perfectly against him, head tucked under his chin, her arms around him and his around her.

“You’re going to be great at that job,” he says to the top of her head, and his voice still doesn’t sound that lively, but she nods and smiles against his skin.

“I’m going to call you every now and then to whine about how bad some of the stories are.”

“That’s fine, I whined to you about what I was writing.”

She looks up to him, intently, like the other night, and shakes her head. She lets go of him and reaches for the muffins.

“What do we have today?” she asks.

“Raspberry.”

“You’re spoiling me.”

“I should have brought something better. We gotta celebrate.” He leans against the fridge and watches her bite into a muffin, catching crumbs in one hand. “Now that I remember, I bought you amulets the other day, but I forgot to bring them.” That's a lie. He left them on purpose, to have an excuse to visit her again.

“Really? For what?”

“Luck. And one of those for studies, in case it helped you find your vocation.”

“When did you buy them?”

“On Sunday.”

“That’s when I started thinking about this. Maybe the amulet worked!”

“Aren’t you supposed to have the amulet for it to work?” Chikara points out.

“You bought it for me, so it was mine even if I didn’t have it. So it worked. Thanks, Chikara!” Her name comes easily out of her mouth, like it isn’t the first time she’s said it. She gasps and covers her face with the hand that isn’t holding the muffin. “Ennoshita. Crap. I mean- Oh, wow. Sorry. That shouldn’t have happened.”

She’s red as a tomato, and Chikara’s face feels hot. He tries to be nonchalant as he says, “It’s fine. Anyone can slip up.”

“Oh, God.” She lowers her hand so her eyes are visible. “I never slipped with Sawamura and now I’m slipping with you, this is absurd.”

“Well, you _liked_ Sawamura,” Chikara says, trying to put her at ease, but she gives him a surprised, disbelieving look that makes him feel like he screwed up somehow.

“What does that mean?”

Chikara doesn’t really want to tell her, because thinking about her crush on Sawamura - thinking that they eventually dated – makes his heart feel heavy and makes him feel inadequate, simple, far from being good enough. But she seems to be forgetting her mistake, so he talks to distract her.

“You were careful around him. You tried to be calm so he wouldn’t notice what you felt, right? I remember you around him.”

“Don’t remind me,” she groans. “I hid it so well that it took him forever to realize I liked him... You know, I always think I'm being obvious, and then it turns out that the boys I like are clueless.” She laughs and shakes her head, finally lowering her hand.

“But he found out in the end,” Chikara says.

“Yeah, he did…” she stares pensively at the muffin and takes another bite, chewing slowly. “And in the end, it didn’t work. At least I wasn’t left wondering what would happen, right?” She shrugs.

Chikara has no idea what she’s talking about, and he really doesn’t know if he’s supposed to ask, but she seems to notice his confusion.

“You have no idea why we broke up, right?”

“No. I haven’t asked anyone.”

“Not many people know, I think. It’s not like we went around explaining to everyone what happened.” She leaves the half-eaten muffin on a plate, cleans her hands on her pants. “We just didn’t work. Or it’s more like… we both thought the other one was amazing, but we weren’t in love. And I think sometimes I was a bit in love with him, but not always, and we were good together but… I don’t know. Something didn’t click,” she waves a hand, “there were no sparks. There were butterflies, definitely, and I thought about him a lot, but… I never needed to say his name.” She looks to the ground, bites her lower lip. “He was ‘Sawamura’ and in certain moments he was ‘Daichi’, but I never _needed_ to call him ‘Daichi’, it was just that it felt more intimate than ‘Sawamura’.” She blushes, and so does Chikara, because he thinks he knows what were those ‘certain moments’ when she called him by his name. “I never caught myself saying his name just because I liked how it sounded, just because it cheered me up to know who that name belonged to. And… when he did nice things I was happy, but it didn’t leave me smiling for hours.” She makes a vague gesture with her hand and looks at Chikara again. “And I missed him when I was bored, or when I saw something I thought he might enjoy with me, but I never wanted to just spend time around him just because…” She looks slightly exasperated, pleading. “I liked him so much, you know? I knew a hundred little details about him, but… I wasn’t that keen on discovering new ones. Something didn’t click," she repeats, shrugging. “He didn’t fall in love with me either, so at least it wasn’t one-sided,” she finishes.

Chikara isn’t sure how to reply to that. If he says the wrong thing, Michimiya will know that he thinks about her too much, and if he screws up, she’ll know that it isn’t just a simple crush. He’s had crushes before, but all of them had been pushed out of his mind by things that seemed more important at the moment, like school, or volleyball, or one of his films, while he doubts anything could take Michimiya out of his head.

So he stays silent. It’s probably worse, because Michimiya cringes.

“I need to stop telling you all this stuff, you don’t need it. I mean, you come to visit me and I bore you with my relationship woes.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind.”

“Oh, please, nobody likes to hear somebody else’s problems.”

“Of course not, that would mean you’re happy that the other person isn’t happy,” Chikara says, unamused. “I can tell you about my problems if it makes you feel better.”

She gives him a curious look.

“You can tell me anything, Ennoshita. We’re friends.”

“The same applies to you, then. You can tell me anything.”

“I’ll hold you on that when the movie’s finished.”

“That again?” Chikara frowns.

“That again.” She gives a secretive smile.

He doesn’t push, and instead gets into the habit of visiting her at home on weekdays. They study next to each other in her living room, with breaks to discuss the movie. Sometimes, Michimiya takes short naps leaning against Chikara’s shoulder, or she lies on the floor to read and Chikara will absentmindedly draw circles on her back with his fingers, or Chikara rests his head on the center table and Michimiya runs her fingers through his hair.

She doesn't call him 'Chikara' again, and he thinks too much about how many different ways she could say his name. He wonders how it would sound when she's laughing, or when she's about to go to sleep, or if it was the first thing she said every morning. Most of Chikara's thoughts about her are soft, fantasies in pastel colors, but sometimes... sometimes he wonders if she'd sigh his name, or if she'd say it again and again as he maps her body with his hands, with his mouth, and those thoughts are red, orange, yellow, blinding white, leaving him breathless and shaking in the privacy of his room. When he sees her, though, the colors of his thoughts mix together, and all he's left with is the hope for a chance to say her name instead, so he murmurs it to himself sometimes, just to enjoy the sound.

Filming finally starts around the end of July. When the first day of filming wraps up, Chikara buys popsicles for everyone and they sit down on some stairs to celebrate.

The heat’s unbearable and Kozume looks like he’s going to melt, but he doesn’t complain and eats his popsicle in silence, watching anxiously as it melts too quickly. Haiba drops his popsicle. Shimizu’s the only one who manages to eat hers without having it melt down her arm. Akaashi just gives up and lets his drip on the asphalt.

Michimiya and Chikara sit next to each other even though there’s plenty of space for everyone, sticking their tongue at each other and laughing because they’re blue. Michimiya’s popsicle melts and trickles down her arm to her elbow, and Chikara uses his napkin to clean her, so when it’s time to get rid of the sticky blue mess in his hands he has no choice but to lick them, making Michimiya laugh and complain that he’s gross. He teases her, putting a saliva-wet palm close to her face, and she squeals and moves away from him, throwing her popsicle’s stick to him as she laughs, until they finally get handed a napkin by Kuroo, who looks at Chikara in disappointment.

They film through the entirety of August, and on the last day, Chikara almost cries, half out of emotion and half out of despair because there’s still too much to be done and not enough time, but Michimiya puts an arm around his shoulders and then he wants to cry because now he’s truly out of excuses to keep her around. She’s a bit teary-eyed when she says goodbye that day.

Chikara stays at Akaashi’s home that night, so they can review the footage together. Akaashi keeps texting someone, and they’re halfway through everything they have when Akaashi presses ‘pause’, takes the laptop and Skypes Yahaba.

“Ennoshita, we’re having an intervention,” Akaashi announces when Yahaba’s face appears on the screen.

“About what?” Chikara says, raising an eyebrow and looking at Yahaba, who doesn’t seem to understand very well what’s going on.

“About how you need to talk to Michimiya,” Akaashi says.

“Urgently,” Yahaba adds, nodding. “And please don’t play dumb,” he continues before Chikara can even open his mouth.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Chikara lies. Poorly. Yahaba and Akaashi look equally unimpressed.

“This movie’s the most overcomplicated love confession I have ever seen,” Akaashi says, crossing his arms.

“We’re not talking about the script,” Yahaba clarifies. “We mean how you film her. You can see in every shot that you like her.”

“It’s not-” Chikara starts.

“Ennoshita,” Akaashi warns.

“Please,” Yahaba says.

“It is, isn’t it?” Chikara says, putting his head on his hands and closing his eyes.

“Please talk to her before we’re done editing this,” Akaashi says.

“Yeah, there’s no way she won’t realize what you feel when she sees the finished product,” Yahaba comments. “It’s impressive she hasn’t realized yet.”

“How am I supposed to talk to her?” Chikara groans.

“You’ve been doing fine until now, as far as I’ve heard.”

“She’ll reject me.”

“Why?” Akaashi asks, crossing his arms.

“Why would she say yes?”

“Because the two of you laugh together all the time and you live at her house half the week?”

“I don’t.”

“You go almost every day and leave just in time to catch the last train.”

“It’s a better working place than my dorm.”

“You’re always around each other.”

“We’re friends.”

“You’re friends with Shimizu, and I’ve never seen you put an arm around her shoulders.”

“Just tell her,” Yahaba urges. “Akaashi won’t stop whining about how sickening the two of you are.

“I don’t whine.” Akaashi gives a murderous look to the screen, but Yahaba’s too many kilometers away to be threatened effectively.

“No, you just comment, but I can hear the despair in your soul.” Yahaba sounds tired. “Really, Ennoshita, just do it. Filming is over, so nothing will get ruined. If Akaashi was wrong and she rejects you, I’ll fly there and we’ll make Kuroo and Bokuto buy us booze and we’ll drink until we pass out.”

“That reminds me that Bokuto and Kuroo wanted to be part of this intervention,” Akaashi says offhandedly, making Chikara turn in horror. “So it’s in your best interest that you hurry up, or they’ll stage their own.”

With that warning, Akaashi considers the intervention finished, and they go back to reviewing what they have.

The next day, Chikara goes to his dorm and spends all the time until the hour Michimiya's shift ends trying to distract himself by editing the scenes, and then he grabs the amulets he bought for her and takes the train to her workplace, arriving just as she’s going home.

“Michimiya!” he calls, walking to her as fast as possible without running.

She looks surprised to see him, and she waits as he regains his breath.

“Hi!” she says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t think I’d see you again so soon. Did something happen with the movie?”

Chikara shakes his head, takes out the amulets and hands them to her. “I came to give these to you.”

“Amulets?”

“Remember I told you I’d bought some for you? You’re the one that’s supposed to keep them, not me.”

“Thanks.” She looks them over and holds them close to her chest. “I’m going to need them.”

“Probably not, but it can’t hurt to have them.”

“Thanks anyway.” She looks at him fondly, and Chikara feels like an idiot. It's not like he hasn't noticed whenever Michimiya blushes around him, or smiles just a bit more brightly when she sees him, but... Michimiya deserves the nicest things, and Chikara has a doubt or two (or six, or ten), that she'd want him, when she could charm anyone. But if she wants him, he'll do his best.

Michimiya starts walking, and Chikara walks next to her. He's not sure if he's walking faster or if she's walking slower than usual, but they walk side by side.

They get on the train together and get out at Michimiya's stop without talking about it, Chikara growing more nervous with each step closer to her apartment.

“Michimiya, wait,” he says as she opens her door. She turns to him, confused. Chikara takes a deep breath, tries to look confident. “The amulets were an excuse.”

She doesn't look surprised, more like she's relieved, and Chikara remembers Akaashi implying that what Chikara feels isn't one-sided. He swallows, bows and says to the ground, “Michimiya, I like you. Would you go out with me?”

He doesn’t dare to look at her face, but then her hand is on his hair, and he slowly straightens himself. She’s blushing, and she’s biting her lower lip to keep her smile from showing. It doesn't work.

“You know that thing we were going to talk about when the movie was finished?” Her voice is barely is low, but Chikara hears it perfectly in the silence of the hallway. “I was going to tell you that I think about you a lot.”

“Why?” Chikara can’t help but ask.

“Why not?” She frowns, but her tone’s amused. “You’re an interesting guy, and you make me smile, and laugh. And you’re nice, and you have ideas, even if sometimes they suck, but you don’t mind when I tell you that, and you listen. And your face is weird, because you always look tired, but there are still a lot of emotions there, just... not as obvious as in other people? I like it.” She steps closer to him. “There’s a lot to think about.”

“So… it’s a yes?”

“Of course it’s a yes!” she shoves him playfully. “God, I really thought I'd have to take the first step here.”

“You knew I liked you?”

Michimiya gives him an almost pitying look. “I think everyone that worked on the film does. Except for Haiba, maybe. But even if I hadn’t known, Bokuto and Kuroo went to see me this morning and said they were staging an intervention for you.”

Chikara covers his face with a hand and groans.

“I can’t believe it,” he murmurs.

Michimiya laughs, and it’s definitely the nicest sound in the world.

“It’s fine, I think it’s cute,” she says, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Did you plan anything or were you just going to ask me out today?” She lowers her hand, tracing a path with her fingers from Chikara’s shoulder to the back of his hand.

“I didn't think of anything.” He holds her hand in his, laces their fingers.

“My aunt isn't home yet, wanna come in?”

They curl together on the living room couch, turn on the TV and watch the first thing they find. It's terrible, and Michimiya laughs, prettier than ever before, so Chikara kisses her, quick and chaste, because he wants some of that happiness for himself, but she follows him when he pulls away, kisses him again, pushes that laughter against his lips, into his mouth, and it's summer itself, just like her smile.

When Aunt Sakiko arrives, she finds them talking about everything and nothing, watching TV in between kisses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Day 3 prompts:** intimate or lascivious / [love struck](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YOjhHkUjNX8) / ~~“I could show you incredible things: Magic, madness, heaven, sin.” ~ Blank Space (Taylor Swift)~~


	4. Chapter 4

Chikara’s film premieres in the living room of Aunt Sakiko’s apartment in mid-December. The woman’s out of the city on business, which is a good thing considering that everyone involved in the film is there, even Yahaba, plus others that Chikara hadn’t expected - like Tsukishima, Yachi, Yamaguchi, and Aone – and others Chikara would have been surprised not to see (in this case, Suga and Oikawa, who were either invited by Shimizu or invited themselves to see her acting).

“Tanaka said he’d come later,” Suga tells Chikara as they take the center table out of the living room so they can sit on the floor.

“…why,” Chikara says, sounding dismayed and scared instead of just curious like he’d intended.

As an answer, Suga points with his head in Shimizu’s direction.

“Right,” Chikara mutters to himself. “Should have expected it.”

Out of curiosity, Chikara asks around and learns that Akaashi’s responsible for Aone’s presence, and that Tsukishima being there is probably Bokuto’s fault (Chikara was ready to blame Kuroo when Tsukishima arrived, but Kuroo had looked as surprised as Chikara felt, while Bokuto had practically jumped to greet him). Yachi’s there because she’d seemed interested in the movie and Yamaguchi had invited her, even if no one had invited him.

Chikara isn’t ready for so many people seeing this film at once, not when he still thinks of Akaashi telling him that it’s the most over-complicated love confession he’s ever seen, not when he’s already seen the film and he knows that Akaashi had been right. Michimiya doesn’t know yet that he loves her, but in less than an hour, the whole room will know. She will know. And if she asks, he’ll have to admit that he’s been in love since before he asked her out, and that the only reason he’d said he simply liked her was because he wasn’t going to throw that much on her so soon.

“It’s a good film, Ennoshita, calm down,” Michimiya says, startling him. “They’ll like it.”

Chikara had been so caught worrying that he hadn’t noticed Michimiya approach him, and now she’s looking up at him, expression warm, and her tone’s reassuring and confident.

She can’t find out like this, it’s not fair, so he takes her hand and says, “Let’s not see it.”

Her mouth hangs open. She looks around, checks if anyone is listening, and then looks at him again, worried.

“Ennoshita, the film’s good.” She pauses. “And I’m not saying it just because we’re dating,” she adds, earnest.

“I know. I trust you. And I’ve seen the movie, and I like it. That’s not the reason, Michimiya.”

“Then why not?”

He debates with himself for a second, swallows and admits, “I don’t want you to see it.”

“What.” Her tone’s flat, and she gives him a disbelieving look. “Are you worried I won’t like it?” She frowns. “Is this a self-esteem thing?”

He smirks at her words, and she does as well, looking slightly relieved, but then Chikara shakes his head and she’s concerned again.

“It’s not… it’s…” Chikara looks up, presses his lips, looks down at Michimiya again. “You’d have to see it to understand.”

“But you don’t want me to,” she says, sounding torn between confusion and slight annoyance.

“I do but… maybe not now. Later. When I can talk about this.”

Michimiya narrows her eyes, looks around again and then focuses on him.

“You’re making no sense.”

“I know. But… trust me?”

She raises her eyebrows, looks at the ground, shakes her head.

“Ennoshita, what’s going on? Is there a problem?”

“No.”

“Then why?”

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, sighs.

“I don’t know, really.”

She looks more worried than before, but then she sighs as well, puts one hand on the back of Chikara’s neck and says, “Okay, let’s make a deal. We’ll watch this film and, no matter what, I won’t get angry, or sad, or… anything. I don’t know what you’re scared of, and I won’t try to guess. I won’t draw conclusions. I’ll just watch. Yes?”

“You’ll try to guess anyway,” he accuses, terrified, but keeping his tone light, joking.

“Yes,” she concedes with a sheepish look. “But I won’t let it show, and I’ll wait until you tell me.”

She squeezes his hand softly, gives him a gentle smile, and Chikara’s even more scared than earlier.

They sit near the wall, cross-legged, Michimiya’s knee touching Chikara’s thigh, that small point of contact feeling safer than anything else Chikara has ever known, so when she has to leave his side to get the door, he feels nervous, and he needs her back when he sees Tanaka, Kinoshita and Daichi enter the room.

Great.

He looks at Michimiya and Daichi interact, the easy smiles, the casual touches, and wonders for the umpteenth time how Daichi couldn’t fall for her.

Michimiya returns to Chikara’s side, her knee against his thigh again, and she puts her hand on his knee when the movie starts. Chikara focuses on her hand as the film plays, doesn’t look at the screen and instead looks at her fingers against the fabric of his pants, pays attention to how the pressure she applies varies as the minutes pass, until she curls her hand into a fist and retreats it, and then he’s forced to see what made her react: on the screen, she’s smiling tenderly at her phone’s screen, and the light, the angle, everything is set to make her stand out, a bright spot in an otherwise plain room, the way the security camera supposedly sees her (the way Chikara usually sees her).

He turns to Michimiya, who’s brought her hand to her face, hiding her lips behind her fist, and her eyes look too wet. She notices him staring, looks at him, and puts her hand on his knee again, smiling shyly. He sighs in relief, watches her out of the corner of his eye, trying to catch every reaction, every change in her expression.

When it’s over and the lights are turned on, Chikara finds Bokuto and Tanaka with tears running down their faces; Kuroo looks teary-eyed, Yachi’s sobbing into Yamaguchi’s shoulder, and Oikawa’s repeatedly rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand, while Shimizu’s handing tissues to Suga and Daichi.

“Well done, director Ennoshita,” Michimiya whispers to him before kissing his cheek, too quickly for anyone to notice. Her eyes are red, but she looks happy.

Soon, everyone’s approaching Chikara to congratulate him, to wish him the best for the film festival, and then they’re also congratulating Michimiya and Shimizu, saying they hope they’ll be in another one of Chikara’s films.

“Are you two dating or are you pining hopelessly?” Kinoshita says when he finally gets to Chikara’s side. To make things clear, he points at Michimiya, who’s talking with Tanaka.

“We’re dating,” Chikara answers.

“Oh, good. Because that movie…”

Chikara cringes and covers his face with his hand.

“Was it that obvious?” he asks.

“So much that Tanaka said he was going to ask Michimiya how she felt about you.” Chikara turns quickly to where Michimiya and Tanaka are talking to find her blushing and Tanaka with a very serious expression. “He says he wants to help you.”

“I’ll be right back,” Chikara says, approaching Michimiya.

Tanaka looks solemn, proud, and also like he’s about to cry when he says, “You got a girlfriend before I did, Ennoshita.” He puts a hand on Chikara’s shoulder and squeezes it, lowers his head and sniffles. “Congratulations. I hope you’re very happy together.” When he looks up, there are tears in his eyes. It’s kind of ridiculous, and Chikara exchanges half-confused, half-amused glances with Michimiya. “Take care of our former captain, Michimiya. He’s a good man.”

“I will. Thank you, Tanaka,” she says, serious, as she puts a hand on Chikara’s other shoulder.

Chikara feels like there’s a joke no one’s telling him about, and then Daichi approaches them.

“Tanaka, leave them alone,” he says, pulling Tanaka back by the neck of his t-shirt.

“I’m just wishing them the best. They deserve it.”

Daichi looks at them, and Chikara unconsciously tries to stand straighter, his head high, but then Daichi smiles.

“You will have to take care of him, Michimiya,” he says. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks, Sawamura.” The smile she gives him is tinged with sadness, and it scares Chikara.

Everyone stays for a while, talking, catching up on life, asking Chikara to be in his next film (Aone seems particularly hurt that he wasn’t asked to help this time, or that’s what Chikara gets from what little he says). They start leaving one by one, sometimes in small groups, and when Daichi says goodbye Michimiya walks out with him and doesn’t return until only Kinoshita, Yahaba and Akaashi are left, helping Chikara put the center table back in the living room. She tries to joke, and be cheerful, but her voice is too loud, her movements too exaggerated, and when Chikara looks at Akaashi the latter nods and looks to the others, pointing to the door with his head, and then Chikara and Michimiya are alone.

He has too many things he wants to ask, and he’d be lying if he pretended he wasn’t worried about what Michimiya and Daichi had talked about, especially when Michimiya covers her eyes with one hand and presses her lips tightly. Chikara’s debating whether to approach her or not when he notices that she’s smiling slightly, and she lowers her hand to look at him.

“Sorry about that,” she mutters. “We just had some stuff to talk about.”

“Oh… Okay. Good.”

They stand in awkward silence for a minute, until Michimiya anxiously says, “You won’t ask?”

“I want to, but…” he makes a vague gesture with a hand, looks down.

“You can ask.”

“Oh.” Chikara swallows, gathers some courage and says, “What were you talking about?”

“Why it didn’t work between us.”

He can’t say ‘Oh’ again, he thinks, so he tries to keep the conversation going.

“You hadn’t talked about it before?”

“We had… We talked a lot about it when we broke up, and before we broke up. But he- we felt we needed to talk about it again, now. After seeing your movie.” She gives him a pointed look, but Chikara avoids her gaze and waits. “He says he’s happy for us, and that he’s glad you… care so much about me.” There’s a smile in her voice, Chikara can hear it, but he needs to see it, so he dares to look at Michimiya’s face. Her expression’s neutral, but there’s a glint in her eye that betrays what she’s feeling.

“He didn’t use those words, did he?” Chikara asks, nervous.

“Nope. But I promised you I wouldn’t draw any conclusions from your movie.” Her tone’s playful, and her expression is hopeful, all attempts of impassivity forgotten.

“And what did you tell him?”

“That I’m happy too. And then he left and I stayed there, thinking.” She plays with a lock of hair, takes a step towards Chikara. “You remember when we looked at the script for the first time and you asked me if it was a self-esteem thing?” She licks her lips. “I think it was, in some way. I’d had this guy that I really liked, and he really liked me, but he didn’t love me, and sometimes I wondered if it was my fault, somehow? And then I remembered I didn’t fall for him either, and that we worked better as friends, but every now and then I looked back and wondered if maybe I hadn’t tried hard enough? And that really makes no sense, but after we broke up I had too much time to think and I kept thinking about that,” she laughs without humor. “And then… this is different. You… I don’t need to try here. And I was thinking about this and about your movie and I was… happy.” She gives a half smile and shrugs, raising her hands, palms up. “And it’s been a while since I’ve been this happy, I mean, I haven’t felt like this since Sawamura and I started dating… actually no, this feels… bigger? And it’s a bit scary. Like… something could go wrong at any moment.” She bites her lip and lowers her head, hides her hands behind her back. “But I’m happy, and I don’t feel like I’m making an effort.”

Chikara had listened attentively, his anxiousness disappearing as she spoke to be replaced by the urge to hold her and kiss her. When she grows quiet and looks up at him, waiting for his answer, he doesn’t trust his voice, because he thinks that if he opens his mouth all that will come out will be laughter born from some confusion, the fact that just Michimiya’s existence makes him happy, and hope, because he thinks her words mean that she feels the same way he does.

He nods, clears his throat, and doesn’t come up with anything to say.

Michimiya nods as well, nonplussed, then walks around the living room, checking that everything’s in order. She suddenly turns to look at Chikara, looking determined.

“I love you,” Chikara says just as she’s opening her mouth, leaving her staring in surprise. “Sorry for not telling you before the film started.”

“…why?”

“Because… I thought that if you saw the movie…” he makes a vague gesture, points at Michimiya, points at the TV, not really sure that he’s explaining anything with his movements.

“You thought that’s what I’d conclude?”

“Yeah…” he doesn’t look at her, instead focusing on her feet. “And I think everybody else in the room concluded that too.”

“True,” Michimiya says with a laugh, approaching him. “Then, please make it clear. Why didn’t you want me to see the film?”

Chikara keeps looking down as he speaks. “Because you’d know I’ve been in love with you since before we started dating.”

He looks up to find her smiling. She puts a hand on his cheek and says, “I love you too, Chikara,” before kissing him, soft, sweet, and too short. “And I’ve got some good news: I’ve been in love with you since before we started dating.” Chikara kisses her forehead. She continues, “But I thought you didn’t feel the same.” He kisses her cheek.

“I love you,” he says, just to make it clear.

Chikara wraps his arms around her waist, his hands sneaking under her t-shirt, and she puts her arms around his neck, and they kiss in the living room, Michimiya’s fingers tangling in his hair as the kisses become more passionate, the breathing heavier, Chikara’s back against the wall and Michimiya’s body pressed against his, making Chikara’s pants feel tighter.

“Yui,” he says when she pulls away to look at him.

“Yes?” Her lips are red, and her skin feels hot under Chikara’s hands.

“Nothing. I just wanted to say it.”

She smirks at that, leans up to press a kiss to his jaw.

“Chikara,” she whispers in his ear, low and wanting. It makes him weak.

She takes a step back, glances at the obvious bulge on the front of Chikara’s pants and looks amusedly at him.

“How cliché would it be if we had our first time right after we declared our love for each other?” she asks, barely containing a grin.

“Very cliché. Especially since we’ve just started calling each other by our first names,” he says, trying not to think about how uncomfortable his pants feel.

“Nobody else will know, so it doesn’t matter, right?” She drags a finger down Chikara’s chest right to the button of his pants, and he actually whimpers, which has to be in the top three of embarrassing experiences in his life, especially when Yui looks smug about it, but at least she presses a quick kiss to the corner of Chikara’s mouth, takes his hand and leads him to her room.

Chikara has been there many times, all of them when Aunt Sakiko hasn’t been home, activities ranging from studying to making out on Yui’s bed, t-shirts off and Chikara’s hands tracing patterns on the skin of her back as she left marks below his collarbones.

She closes the door out of habit and immediately starts tugging at Chikara’s t-shirt.

“Raise your arms, Chikara,” she says, pulling up his shirt, and he obeys, thankful that they’re at Michimiya’s place instead of his, or he’d be freezing already. “Why did I have to wear a blouse today?” she mutters as she tries to undo the top buttons as quickly as possible.

“It’s not like we planned this,” he says as he helps her with the lower half of her blouse, and while he’s at it, he unbuttons her pants as well. “Is this okay?” he asks, suddenly too aware of what he’s doing.

“Keep going, Chikara. Just tell me if you change your mind.”

“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?”

“Of course. But you’re the virgin here. And we’re talking too much.” She reaches to unbutton Chikara’s pants, tugs them down and leaves him to kick them off while she takes off her own.

Chikara might be panicking, but then she’s kissing him again, tongue and teeth, and he focuses on that, thinks of her and nothing else. He sits on the edge of Yui’s bed, and she straddles him, cupping his face with her hands, gasping against his lips as he unclasps her bra and, praying to every deity he can think of that he won’t fuck up, brushes his thumb against a nipple, then pinches it lightly.

She rocks against his crotch, making Chikara suck in a breath, and there’s a smug little smile on her face that has him mortified.

Yui moves away from him, and Chikara unconsciously moves towards her, leaning forward as she stands, probably looking a bit dazed.

“Condoms,” is all she says to explain, searching in her nightstand. At least it gives Chikara a moment to breathe, because at this rate he was going to come in his underwear.

She sits next to him, hands him the condom and he takes it with slightly shaking hands. He can do this, yes. Definitely.

“Chikara?” Yui asks, making him realize that he hasn’t moved in too long.

“Sorry. I’ll just… uh…” he runs a hand over his face, and when he glances at Yui he finds her looking concerned, but also slightly amused.

“What are you so worried about?” she asks, putting a hand on his arm.

“As you’ve already pointed out, I’m a virgin,” he says, trying not to look at her. It’s kind of difficult, because there’s a lot of skin and he hasn’t had the chance before to see so much of her, and he’d really like to memorize it, to learn every detail… but right now isn’t the moment for staring.

“That’s it?” She rubs his arm, moves closer. “Do you mind?”

“Mind what?”

“That you’re a virgin,” she says, matter-of-factly.

“I’m more worried that you will mind,” he admits.

“And why would I? I mean…” She frowns, bites her lower lip. “I don’t know, but there just isn’t any reason why I should care or not.” Her touch becomes light, just her fingertips over the skin of his shoulder. “I’m here with you and that’s all I care about. And there will be other times and… honestly, I hadn’t really thought about it that much, besides that you might be more nervous than me. And you are.”

He looks at her. She’s trying to give him a reassuring smile, but he feels pitiful.

“So you don’t care.”

“Do you?” she asks, tilting her head slightly.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

He forces himself not to look away as he says, “Because it’ll be over too soon and you probably won’t enjoy it.”

She stares at him and then starts laughing, covering her mouth with her hands.

“Yui…” His tone is pained.

She shakes her head.

“I’m happy, Chikara, that’s all.” She kisses his cheek. “If that’s what you’re worried about, I promise you that I’ll… take matters into my own hands if I’m not satisfied.” She laughs again, and Chikara tries to keep the mental image away. He doesn’t succeed.

He kisses her again, one hand on her back and the other one teasing her clit over her panties. She guides that hand, breaking the kiss sometimes to whisper instructions, like that, Chikara, a bit slower, Chikara - until she reaches for the condom and gives him a meaningful look.

She helps him with the condom because he doesn’t trust himself completely, and then she’s taking off her panties and lying back on the bed, pulling Chikara down with her with a hand on the back of his neck.

He thinks he’s gonna come as soon as he enters her, and he doesn’t dare to do anything, but then Yui’s coaxing him to move. He tries to find a rhythm, tries to keep his mind away from how it feels to be inside her, from her hands on his back, from the hitches in her breath, from the words she says in his ear, but it still ends too soon, her name a broken whisper in the otherwise silent room.

Her bed’s too small for the both of them, but they still manage to lie side by side afterwards.

“You said…” Chikara starts, clears his throat.

“This is a bit embarrassing,” she tells him, avoiding looking at him as she pushes back the covers.

She closes her eyes and Chikara sits to get a better view as she puts her hands between her legs, paying attention to her every movement, to every moan, thinking, _Next time_.

Her breathing speeds up, her back arches, and she says his name, and Chikara needs to kiss her for that, wishes he could try again. She gives him a small smile when she opens her eyes, and he takes the hand she’s about to wipe on the sheets and sucks her fingers clean. The look she gives him makes him think that she’d very much like a second attempt as well.

She bites her lower lip, shakes her head, gestures for him to come closer. Chikara kisses her brow, and she chuckles at that, puts her arms around his neck.

They lie together for some time, legs tangled; holding each other even though they’re sweaty and the sheets are dirty and they should be showering instead.

He follows the stretch marks on her thighs with a fingertip, fascinated by them as much as he is by the rest of her, and Yui traces lines on his chest that he suspects are words, but he doesn’t ask what she’s writing.

“Stay the night?” Yui asks, breaking the silence. “We can wash your clothes now and they’ll be dry in the morning.”

“Shouldn’t we wash the sheets first? So your aunt doesn’t notice?”

“She thinks we’ve been doing it for a while, Chikara. It doesn’t matter if she notices.”

Chikara cringes.

“I should bring her a present next time.”

They wash Chikara’s clothes first, but Yui steals his t-shirt before he puts it in the machine and walks around the apartment the rest of the afternoon wearing it and her track pants, while Chikara has to walk around in his underwear and wrapped in a blanket. They sleep on Yui’s bed, too close to really be comfortable, and Chikara wakes up with her hair in his mouth and his arm trapped under her body, but she presses against him and kisses his neck when she opens her eyes, so it’s not so bad (it’s kind of perfect, actually, but he doesn’t want to think it yet).

Just in case, Chikara leaves before Aunt Sakiko arrives, but she gives him a long, scrutinizing look next time he visits, so he suspects she knows what happened. As a peace offering, he invites her to the film festival to see his movie, but she declines and asks for a DVD.

The film festival is in January, and everyone promises to go, mainly because Nishinoya wrote on Chikara’s Facebook wall asking him about it and that attracted every single acquaintance. He gives them the date and the schedule and on that day he slips into the showing room before anyone arrives. He’s too nervous to deal with anyone, even Yui, who texts him to tell him the film’s great and that she loves him. That has him smiling for a while.

There are six student films in competition, and Chikara’s the fourth one they screen, meaning he’s screwed: people only remember the first and last films, the rest are lost in a sea of images and sounds where all the stories blur together.

Well, he suspected from the start that he was screwed; he can’t go blaming the schedule. This time, he has no reason not to watch his own film, so he looks at the screen intently, makes mental notes of everything that could have been done better, tries not to find out how the audience reacts, tries not to tap his foot, not to chew on the inside of his cheek, tries to act confident and not like the naïve first year who went ahead and presented a film anyway. What had he been thinking?

When it ends, he has a list of a thousand things he wants to fix, but people are clapping and when the lights are turned on for an intermission, Chikara sees people crying on the fifth row, and around the tenth row there’s a couple sobbing, hugging each other and being so overdramatic that Chikara almost doubts their sincerity. He finds his former volleyball team in the back row, clapping and cheering, and there’s also Akaashi waving at him from a seat near the emergency exit, with Bokuto at one side and Kuroo and Kozume at the other.

He can’t see Yui.

The clapping eventually dies out and people start moving to leave the room, but then one person starts clapping again, at a seat near the front.

Chikara turns and Yui’s there, clapping furiously, stopping only to whistle and cheer, and people are staring, but she continues, looking at Chikara with a grin on her face. There’s a girl at her side that Chikara thinks he’s seen before, and then remembers as part of Yui’s team at Karasuno.

Yui only stops clapping when Chikara starts walking towards her, just so she can meet him halfway. He offers her his hand, and she takes it, saying, “Well done, director Ennoshita.”

“What did you think of your smile on the big screen?”

“I want my royalties for shameless use of my personality.” She sticks out her tongue playfully.

“Guys, please,” Yui’s friend says, smirking,walking past them to the door. Yui blushes.

“When do you get the results?” Yui asks as they walk to the door.

“Later this afternoon.”

“You sure you can only get the audience award?”

“Yeah.”

“Pity.” She purses her lips.

In the end, he wins the audience’s award, and, as he’d predicted, doesn’t even place with the official jury. He asks around and finds out he came fifth.

“You’re not last!” Nishinoya says when he tells the entire group. They’re celebrating at a ramen place, because it was the only restaurant nearby with enough seats for everyone.

“That’s encouraging,” Narita murmurs into his glass.

“But if he ends up fifth on his first year, he’ll definitely get the first place by the time he’s on his last year, right, Ryuu?”

“Or sooner!” Tanaka says, giving Chikara a thumbs up.

“Isn’t all this faith heartwarming?” Akaashi says, hiding a smile behind his hand.

“What did you win?” Hinata asks, saving Chikara from having to decide whether Akaashi wanted an answer or not.

“A pat in the back, a diploma, and some money.”

“What did the others get?”

“A pat in the back, a trophy for the first place, and…” Chikara tries to remember the prizes. “I don’t know.” He frowns. “I never looked at the prize list.”

Hinata looks shocked, while Kinoshita and Narita laugh. Tsukishima twists his lips and nods, like he isn’t really surprised.

“You got a girlfriend out of it,” Yui says, pointing at Chikara with her chopsticks. “I’d say you’re the biggest winner.”

“True,” Tanaka agrees. “Can I be on your next movie?”

“I’ll think about it,” Chikara says, looking at him out of the corner of his eye.

“That means ‘no’, right?” Tanaka narrows his eyes and tries to look threatening.

“He’ll really think about it, don’t worry,” Yui tells Tanaka. Her hand is on Chikara’s knee under the table, and he holds it, laces their fingers and rubs circles on the back with his thumb.

Everyone goes home after the celebration, making promises to hang out, to see each other soon.

Chikara and Yui watch them all go and walk back to Chikara’s dorm, hands linked, talking about how things will be when Yui enters college again.

“I don’t think I want to be in another movie,” she says out of nowhere, and stops walking, making Chikara stop as well. “I had fun, but… I really can’t act. And you can’t keep making movies where I play myself,” she says in response to his confused look.

“You can still be an extra, right?”

“Sure.” She shrugs with one shoulder. “But it’s more fun to be behind the camera. I want to read every single one of your scripts.”

“This is just a plan to get your name in the ‘Thank you’ section, isn’t it?” he jokes.

“Damn, you caught me.” She grins and takes his other hand, stands in front of him just looking at his face. “I want my name to always be there. Even when you’re a famous director.”

“Of course it’s gonna be there.”

“Good. But it’s true that I’m not good at acting.”

He can’t argue with that, so he doesn’t. He brushes a lock of hair from her face, and then reminds himself that they’re in the middle of the street and it wouldn’t be proper to kiss her there. She seems to be thinking the same thing, because she pulls him near a wall and raises her bag, hiding her profile from any passersby. She signals for him to come closer.

“Can I use this in a movie?” he says when he’s close enough to see the darker specks of her irises.

“You’ll make another romance?”

“This one wasn’t a romance, it was a love story.”

“They’re similar.”

“But I want something with a happy ending. This could be the last scene.”

She taps her chin with a finger, pretends to think it over.

“You can use this if you thank me.”

“I’ll credit you as co-writer if you want.”

“I’d like that. It’s a promise?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, then. I’ll help you with your romance.” She grins.

Chikara leans down to kiss her, just to feel Yui’s smile against his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Day 4 prompts:** ardor / [this time](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oD0XTvKcUk4) ~~(or: that song that annoyed the hell out of me at this year's Eurovision, dear God, it was like a three minutes long commercial jingle why)~~ / “Maybe you don’t need the whole world to love you, you know. Maybe you just need one person.” - Kermit the Frog
> 
> I like to think this fic happens in the same universe as my [Oikawa/Suga/Kiyoko fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4394510) and my [kurotsuki](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3473540) fic, but if you want to pretend it's not like that, go ahead!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Special thanks to [Paltita](http://paltita-sketch.tumblr.com) for the encouragement while writing (that art blog is rarepair heaven, by the way, check it out) and to [Miff](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Miff/pseuds/Miff) for the brainstorming and the encouragement.
> 
> You can find me on [tumblr](http://veto-power-over-fanworks.tumblr.com) if you want to talk rarepairs (or any pairs, really). Or we can also talk about how Ennoshita's a hipster filmmaker who just rolls with it.


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